The Draft 6

“Where’s Lani?”

Isturon Lightmist looked up from his breakfast as his daughter, Esladra, sat down at the table.  The answer to her question was something he was still a little in shock over himself.


Esladra crinkled her nose and blinked, “What?”

“She left for Quel’Danas this morning.” Isturon pushed a folded piece of paper across the table to Esladra.  The note Lani had left explained everything.

Esladra’s eyes widened as she read the note.  “I never knew she had it in her to do something like this.” She looked at her father, “Is this a joke?”

Isturon shook his head.  “I’m afraid not.  She wouldn’t joke about something like this.  I found the note pinned to the door of her room this morning.  She must have packed and left while we were sleeping.”

“Mother has been waiting for that letter, the one Lani mentions taking in to get the name changed on it.”  Esladra gasped then asked, “Minn’da doesn’t know yet, does she?”

Isturon shook his head again, “Not yet.”

Esladra grabbed the letter and bolted from the room.  Isturon could hear her as she ran up the stairs, “Minn’da!  Minn’da!  Ann’da let Lani go instead of him!”

Isturon sighed.  It was going to be a long day.


Ithorel grabbed his bag of things off of his cot.  The small building on the hawkstrider farm had been his home for so many years now that it seemed odd to leave it.  A letter had arrived about a week ago to the farm.  Ithorel didn’t know much about what it said, other than folks were gathering in Silvermoon, and that something was going on in Kalimdor.  The owners of the farm were only able to keep as few people as necessary to continue caring for the hawkstriders.  Ithorel had quickly volunteered to go.

Today was the day.  An order of ten trained hawkstriders had also been made, and now the two wagons and hawkstriders waited on the path leading away from the farm.  Ithorel climbed up on the first wagon, and sat next to Ethirdir, one of the owner’s sons.  He was finally going to Silvermoon.


Hethurin Fairsong sat at a table in the library in Silvermoon City.  He had only an hour before he would have to return to the Ghostlands.  He had left his nephew with Desdeyliri while the baby napped.  He didn’t want her studies to suffer though.  He was hesitant to leave her with the baby too long.  She had reading and practice to do as well.  He had to return in time to start supper as well, though he was sure she would help again, he still hated cooking.  Hopefully, Tik would be back soon.

Luckily, Hethurin’s own practice from his lessons with Renner was coming along well enough that time, well linear time, was not an issue.  Hethurin now slept at a quiet inn in Eversong, and returned to the same point he had left, without the use of an anchor spell.  It was easier now, and it allowed him to get a full night’s rest, but he could still be there for the baby.

He looked up from his book.  It was quieter than it usually was.  There were far fewer people in the library than there normally would be, which sort of defeated his purpose of coming here in the first place.  He had met Aeramin in the library, so it only made sense to look for someone new there.  There was one guy standing at one shelf nearby who looked to be too old.  Another studied at another table on the other side of the room who looked to be too young.  A blond carried some tomes from one of the shelves to the desk to sign out.  His robe was ugly.  It was the same story with everyone else there.  None of them were right.

Hethurin frowned, and returned to reading his book.


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Filed under Isturon, Lanthiriel, Sanimir, Story, World of Warcraft

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